


if i bleed you'll be the last to know

by dharmainitiative



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exes, F/F, fix this @ ao3, how is there no evie & uma & mal tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmainitiative/pseuds/dharmainitiative
Summary: The thing about Mal is that she's a horrible roommate.
Relationships: Evie & Uma (Disney), Mal/Uma (Disney)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53





	if i bleed you'll be the last to know

**Author's Note:**

> in honor of brit's bday here is a mal/uma enemies to roommates to friends to lovers fic! (sorta.) tbh this was kinda fun and also because i'm me i made an uma/mal playlist which slaps and you can find that [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/48WMBu8ak8i0Fa4ZjajMxi?si=P-FsnJARRiWrbUglRAJ36Q)

The thing about Mal is that she’s an awful roommate.

Sure, sometimes she has her moments. Occasionally she can be surprisingly considerate, like when she leaves Advil on the counter when Uma gets home late after a party, or lets her have the last Red Bull in the fridge when she knows Uma needs to pull an all-nighter. But these occasions are few and far between, and most of the time Mal is doing things like forgetting to wash the dishes or leaving dirty clothes strewn across the apartment. 

And Uma understands that living with another person can be difficult no matter who they are. The _real_ problem is that Mal is a very difficult and frustrating person in general. One moment she’s aloof and above it all, and the next she’s angry with Uma over something as simple as forgetting to take out the trash, when most of the time it’s Mal’s turn to take the trash out anyway.

The thing is, Uma should’ve predicted how horribly rooming with Mal would go. When Evie had casually asked, nearly a year ago, if Uma was looking for a roommate, she should’ve known she had ulterior motives. Evie Grimhilde is probably the kindest person at Auradon University, but she’s also one of the smartest, and though her heart’s usually in the right place, she has a habit of meddling.

So after Uma admitted to needing a new place, she probably should’ve expected Evie to say, “Hmm...interestingly enough, Mal _also_ needs a new roommate.”

Uma did her best not to stiffen, and Mal, who had been in the middle of making Evie her iced vanilla latte and Uma her regular black Americano, had nearly dropped the coffee cups she’d been holding.

It wasn’t that Uma and Mal weren’t friends, necessarily. Auradon University is pretty small, so they’ve shared classes before, and they run in similar social circles. Uma’s friend Gil has been dating Mal’s friend Jay for about a year now, and despite their completely different majors, Uma seems to share a class with Evie every semester, and Evie and Mal have been best friends since freshman year. Not to mention Uma visits the coffee shop Mal works at nearly every day, and the girl can make a pretty mean Americano.

So, yeah. Uma knows Mal, and doesn’t have anything against her or anything. It’s just that, well. There was that whole Halloween party incident. 

“I mean, it’s totally your call, but since I’m moving in with Doug, my room in the apartment’s open, and you two already know each other, so...I just thought you might be interested,” Evie had continued, either oblivious to their reactions to the suggestion or determined to ignore them.

Uma turned to Mal, almost hesitant to see what expression would be on her face. Apprehension? Annoyance? Disinterest?

Instead, aloof, unbothered, and always above it all Mal had just shrugged back at her.

There’d been a bit more finagling for details between the two of them, both in person and over text, but their sophomore year was nearing to a close, and Uma desperately wanted to get out of the dorms and needed a place to stay over the summer, so in a couple of weeks, she was taking up Evie’s old room in Mal’s apartment.

“I can’t believe you moved in with _Mal,_ ” was the first thing Harry said when Uma picked up the call. It was the night she’d moved in, and she was still moving about the room, unpacking boxes and putting things on shelves. “I mean, seriously, what were you thinking?”

“That I needed a place to stay that wasn’t with a murderer off of Craigslist,” Uma said flatly.

“I feel like you’d have better luck with the murderer.”

Uma rolled her eyes. “Okay, what’s your deal? Because if you’re still pissy that I refused to move into you and Gil’s shithole, then you need to get over it.”

“Uma, come on. You and Mal can’t stand each other.”

“That’s not entirely true,” she said, although she’d never actually made it a secret that she found Mal sort of insufferable.

“Bullshit,” Harry said. “You haven’t been able to get along ever since that Halloween party when you — ”

“Oh _shut up,_ Harry,” Uma scoffed, quickly cutting him off, because she had no interest in going down memory lane, thank you very much. “That was ages ago, I barely remember it. I doubt Mal does, either.”

That was only partially true. Mal had never mentioned the Halloween party their freshman year to Uma, and had never given any inkling of remembering it. Uma, on the other hand, probably thinks of it a little more often than she should. But that wouldn’t be helping her case, and it certainly wasn’t any of Harry’s business.

“Plus, it doesn’t even matter,” Uma continued. “Isn’t she still dating Ben?”

“I thought they broke up.”

Uma had heard that too, actually, but she was hoping Harry hadn’t. “Well, they’ll probably get back together.”

Harry made a contemplative noise. “I doubt it. Isn’t Ben dating that girl...Nora? Nina? Nia? One of those. And Mal seems just fine without him, so.”

Uma felt she knew Mal well enough to know that she was pretty good at pretending to be fine, but decided not to push it. “Look, Harry, it doesn’t matter. I needed the room, and just because Mal and I aren’t exactly best friends, it doesn’t mean we can’t live together. It’s whatever. Things will be fine.”

That’d been a year ago, and now Uma is slowly approaching the end of her junior year, and things are decidedly not fine. She really had thought that they’d be able to peacefully coexist, but that was before they started arguing at every turn, before she realized how hostile and bitter Mal could get with seemingly no reason.

But despite all that, the rent was still cheap, and Mal’s pettiness was somehow easier to deal with than the moldy campus dorms, so Uma told herself that if she stuck it out for one more year, just until graduation, she could move wherever she wanted and never have to see Mal again.

And she’d been willing to stick it out, too. But then a few weeks ago, the Incident happened. The Incident that they still aren’t talking about. 

And now, well, Uma just can’t.

Hunting for another apartment was easier than she thought it’d be. Auradon is a small city, but it’s a college town, which means there are tons of available apartments in the downtown area. She’d even convinced Harry to move with her, although that’d been a pretty easy task, since Gil had already been talking about finding an apartment with Jay. In a matter of weeks, she found the perfect apartment — a small two bedroom only a ten minute walk from the science building at Auradon U, where most of her marine biology classes were. Her first tour of the apartment had been a few weeks ago, and she had a second tour scheduled, just to make sure she was certain.

But deep down, Uma knew that she’d already made up her mind. She just had a good gut feeling about the place. It felt like it could be a home, not just a place she had to tolerate. After the second tour, all she had to do was sign the lease, hire a move-in crew, tell Mal she was moving out, and avoid her until moving day. No problem.

But then an unprecedented global pandemic happened, and everything went to shit.

First, Auradon University shut down and moved all classes online in early March. Then the office Uma interned at part time shut down not long after. And finally, the apartment complex she’d been eyeing closed to outside visitors a week later. 

Not that it mattered, because it’s not like she could hire a move-in crew and shop for furniture at IKEA while everyone’s social distancing, could she? That’d be a nightmare. 

And Uma’s trying not to get wrapped up in her own problems, because with everything going on in the world, her roommate issues don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But she’s always been a little dramatic and maybe a tad bit selfish, so can you really blame her? Because come _on,_ how did all of this manage to happen mere weeks before she was set to move out? How did she get unlucky enough to end up quarantined with someone who can’t stand her?

So after a week of self isolating, when Mal’s working late and Uma is too lazy to study for an exam, she puts down her laptop, switches on the TV, and allows herself a few hours to indulge in her favorite destresser and top secret guilty pleasure. 

She’s just starting to get lost in the drama unfolding onscreen and to forget all of the issues going on in the world when she hears the front door slam.

She dives frantically for the remote to hit pause, but doesn’t manage to exit out of Hulu before Mal enters the living room.

Fortunately, Mal is too busy scowling and tossing her canvas bag to the floor to look at the TV. “Life really sucks, you know that?” 

Uma raises one eyebrow. It’s not like this is the first time she’s been present for one of Mal’s outbursts, but this is the most she’s spoken to her in weeks. She’s pretty sure the last conversation they had was short and clipped, Mal asking Uma to take out the rash, and that’d been over a week ago. 

“What crawled up _your_ ass?” Uma demands.

Still scowling, she cuts Uma a look, but just as quickly she looks away and the scowl fades.

“I got laid off,” Mal says finally, her voice quiet.

Uma blinks. “Oh.”

Mal scoffs. “Yeah.” 

Uma isn’t sure what to say next. She’s pretty sure she’s the last person Mal would ever go to for a heart-to-heart, but it still feels like she should say something, _anything,_ instead of sitting in awkward silence, watching Mal stand, frowning, with her shoulders slumped, in the dim glow of the TV screen.

Fortunately, she’s saved from saying anything at all when Mal continues her rant. “I mean, Lonnie promised she’d rehire me when all this is over, but who _knows_ when the hell that’ll be.” She sighs, tired, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is just...it’s so _crazy._ I never imagined something like this would happen.”

Uma snorts, even though it’s not funny. “Yeah. Just a week ago I was making fun of Gil for being paranoid about shaking people’s hands, and now I won’t even leave my house.”

“Right, exactly!” Mal agrees emphatically. “It felt scary at first, but like it was something that was only happening other places, not something that was going to happen here and affect _me_. It’s just — it’s so weird.”

“Yeah,” Uma says, because that about sums it up.

Suddenly, Mal’s face does something complicated, like she’s just now realized this is the longest conversation they’ve had in weeks, maybe months, and she looks away. “Anyway. It’s whatever. I can file for unemployment, and there’s that reimbursement government check we’re all supposed to get, so you don’t have to worry about me paying rent.”

“Uh...good to know,” Uma says, although the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. She fiddles with the loose string hanging off the couch’s throw pillow. “But...you’re alright?” 

Mal blinks in surprise. “What? Yeah. It’s whatever. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Uma says, but she’s not so sure. Mal is probably one of the toughest people she knows, but she’s never known how to be alone. Try as she might to act like she doesn’t need anyone, Mal relies on Evie, Jay, and Carlos a lot more than she lets on. It’s going to kill her not being able to see them every day, much less for however long this will last.

She’d never admit any of it out loud, especially not to Uma, but she knows it anyway, which is a little strange. There’s something to be said about how a roommate can know you in a way that no one else does, even if your roommate is someone you can barely stand to be in the same room as.

Finally, Mal shrugs. “It just...sucks.”

“Yeah,” Uma says again. That’s all there really is to say. 

There’s an awkward and uncomfortable silence between the two of them after that, although it doesn’t feel as tense as it would have a few days ago. Finally, Mal bends down to pick up her canvas bag, and just as it looks as though she’s about to retreat into her room, she asks, “Are you watching _The Bachelor?_ ”

Uma looks back at the TV, where the screen is paused on Chris Harrison interrupting the rose ceremony to let the contestants know this is the final rose of the night, like the contestants can’t clearly see the single rose sitting on the table.

“No,” she lies.

Mal raises her eyebrows, amused. “Oh, don’t even try it. Evie watches this show all the time. I know a rose ceremony when I see one.” Uma groans, and Mal just smirks. “I can’t believe you watch this shit, oh my God. I figured you’d think it’s all...misogynistic bullshit, or something.”

“It _is_ misogynistic bullshit. It’s also very entertaining.” Mal barks out a laugh, and Uma narrows her eyes. “You tell _anyone_ about this, and no one will ever find your body.”

“Sure, whatever,” Mal says, still smirking. “Move over, I’ve never seen this season.”

Uma hesitates, because this isn’t what they do. But after a moment, something possesses Uma to clear her textbooks off the couch and say, “If you talk over the rose ceremony, I’ll kill you.”

Something crosses Mal’s face when she moves to sit on the empty side of the couch, and Uma’s not sure, but she thinks it might be a smile.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 14**

There’s a lot to hate about this whole quarantine thing. Being stuck inside is terrible, and every day Uma misses going to restaurants and seeing movies and leaving her apartment in general. 

But in Uma’s personal opinion, the worst outcome of self isolation has to be Zoom. The Zoom calls are always so awkward, her professors never seem to have working WiFi, and at least once a week someone ends up accidentally muting themselves. And it’s so much harder to zone out during class when her professor is right there on her computer screen, rather than a few feet away. 

(She makes a mental note to add “zoning out in class” to the “Things We Miss” list that’s pinned by a magnet to her and Mal’s fridge.)

One would think that classes would get easier and professors would want to lighten the load right now, too, what with the fact that they’re currently living through a historical event. But Uma’s classes are just as hard, if not harder, and her workload is suffocating her. And the worst thing is, she can’t go to coffee study sessions with Evie anymore, who seemed to somehow magically make all of her assignments sound much easier than they actually were. 

If she were anyone else, she’d struggle through her assignments on her own. Evie probably has just as much work to do as Uma does. But Uma’s only just now figured out that Evie is 90% of the reason she hasn’t failed all of her GEPs, and when she receives her second failing grade on her response paper in Advanced Comp, she doesn’t feel too bad about caving in and texting her.

 **me  
** okay i have no idea what i’m doing in this class  
and if i fail another paper my advisor is gonna send me a super petty email about it

 **evie  
** Omg what are you having trouble with?!?!  
Is it the fourth essay assignment?

 **me  
** ……  
there’s a fourth essay assignment?

 **evie  
** Oh god

The FaceTime call comes minutes later.

It takes half an hour for Evie to explain the rubric for their next essay assignment in layman’s terms, coach her through coming up with an idea for a topic, and practically draft out Uma’s outline, but after that the assignment doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. In the time it takes Evie to rattle on about what she and Doug have been up to during quarantine, plus some life updates on Jay and Carlos despite never asking for them, Uma already has a full page of her rough draft written.

She’d probably never tell her, but Uma supposes she’s pretty lucky she ended up in the same freshman seminar as Evie their first year at Auradon U.

“So, how are things with you?” Evie asks, now flipping through the textbook in front of her.

“Not too bad,” Uma says absent-mindedly, still typing out her essay. “Mal’s at the store buying groceries. We’re gonna try to make banana bread tonight.”

“Oh?” Evie looks up, and Uma stops typing to take in the surprised expression on her face, which, what is that supposed to mean? “I didn’t know you guys...did that.”

Uma raises her eyebrows. “You didn’t know we baked bread?”

“I mean, I didn’t know you guys hung out,” Evie elaborates.

“It’s not like I have anyone else to hang out with right now,” Uma reminds her.

“I know, but still,” she shrugs. Uma grunts in response and resumes typing. “I just can’t believe it took a pandemic for you two to actually get along. Though I’m thrilled, of course.”

Uma wants to argue, but the truth is, they _have_ been getting along lately. They’ve been having marathons of old episodes of _The_ _Bachelor_ nearly every night, and they baked a batch of cookies together just the other day. Even when they’re doing their own things — studying, reading, doing a puzzle, etcetera — they do them in the living room, rather than in their own rooms.

It’s not like they’re best friends or anything. They still bicker over things like taking out the trash, and they often lapse into awkward silences where neither of them knows what to say. But they’re certainly closer than they were before they got stuck in self isolation together. It’s funny, really, because even though Uma initially assumed the whole thing would be a disaster, there have been several times where they’ve been baking, or watching TV, or playing several rounds of Uno, that Uma has stopped and realized she actually enjoys Mal’s company, though she wouldn’t admit it even if her life depended on it.

She’s not sure what’s changed between them, or when, specifically, it started. She just knows that with everything going on in the world, their disagreements and petty arguments don’t seem to matter so much anymore in the grand scheme of things.

“Yeah, well,” Uma says to Evie now. “It’s just bread.”

“Sure,” Evie says easily, trying to bite back a smile, and Uma rolls her eyes and resumes typing her paper. 

  
  
  
  


**DAY 29**

It took a while, but Uma’s finally fallen into a routine.

At around 9 am she rolls out of bed, then groggily makes her way to the kitchen to make some coffee and maybe a bagel, if she’s feeling particularly productive. Then she sits on the couch, drinks her coffee, scrolls through Twitter, and debates finally reading the book that’s been sitting next to her bedside table for months now, even though she knows she’ll probably never read it. The next thing she knows it’s noon, so she gets up to make her second cup of coffee and root through the fridge or pantry for something acceptable to eat for lunch. By that time, Mal’s finally emerged from her room with crazy bed head, muttering sleepily and looking dead to the world. Sometimes Uma takes pity on her and lets Mal have her second cup of coffee instead, and Mal looks up in surprise every time, like they don’t do this nearly every day.

So Uma eats her lunch and Mal eats her breakfast in companionable silence, until Uma finally accepts that it’s time to at least attempt to get some schoolwork done, and settles on the couch with her textbooks and laptop to achieve some semblance of productivity. During this time Mal usually settles into the armchair across from her to scroll through Instagram or draw or play music that Uma will pretend to find annoying, even though she doesn’t really mind it. By the time Uma’s given up on getting schoolwork done, it’s time for dinner anyway, so she closes her laptop and Mal sets down whatever she was doing to pass the time, and the two of them pretend for a second they’re going to cook dinner, even though they both know they’re going to get something delivered. For the rest of the night, they pick random movies to watch on Netflix, and Uma maybe drinks a third cup of coffee since time isn’t real, and then some time between midnight and 3 am they go to bed.

It’s weird, because only a month ago they hated each other, but now Uma spends almost every waking moment with Mal, and she doesn’t mind it. It turns out the two of them have a surprising amount in common. They’re both night owls, they both love Halsey, and they both agree that the sushi place down the street is the best restaurant in town. 

And it’s nice, actually, to learn all these things about Mal. And what’s weird is the realization that this comfortable comradery between them has always been there, beneath the bickering and arguing. On several occasions Uma has cooked extra so Mal would have something to eat when she came home, or Mal has crashed Uma’s solo Netflix binge watching. Even before they moved in together, Uma always knew she could turn to Mal and find the same mixture of annoyance and amusement on her face any time one of their friends said something particularly annoying. In all honesty, Uma’s really not sure why it took so long for them to realize they could actually be friends.

Probably because they’re both too stubborn for their own good.

But the best part of this newfound friendship with Mal is movie nights, because they apparently have pretty similar taste. They both love horror movies and cheesy thrillers and true crime documentaries, which means that they never have to argue over what to watch. Still, to make things fair they try to alternate who gets to pick the movie each night, and Thursday is Mal’s night. She settles on _It Follows,_ because, “Shut up, I can’t believe you’ve never seen this, it’s a cinematic _classic,_ holy shit.”

But apparently Mal doesn’t love the movie as much as she swears, though, because halfway through she falls asleep, snoring, in a loud and embarrassing way that’s not at all cute, obviously.

Uma is just beginning to wonder if she should wake Mal up to make fun of her and also suggest they go sleep for real, in their own beds, when suddenly Mal’s head falls to Uma’s shoulder, and she freezes.

The thing is, Uma’s good at a lot of things, like compartmentalizing and setting boundaries and surviving. Something she’s still trying to get good at is not dwelling on the past, because that usually makes her bitter and petty and she has enough of that in her already. And she tries especially hard not to dwell on her past with Mal, because it’s long and complicated and it’s probably best not to ruminate on it. 

But every time Mal smirks at her as she smears cookie dough across her nose, or offers to share her throw blanket when they’re sitting on the couch together, or falls asleep right next to her, so close that her breath is right against her cheek, Uma can’t help but think about things she was supposed to forget.

One of those things is the Halloween Party Incident.

It was October their freshman year. Ben Florian was throwing a Halloween party at his parents’ immaculate mansion while they were out of town, and Evie and her crew had gotten invited, so Evie had extended the invitation to Uma. She hadn’t wanted to go — almost didn’t, in fact. But Gil had RSVP’d yes because Jay from his science class had invited him, and _someone_ had to tag along and make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble, so Uma had said yes, too.

That was the night she’d officially met Mal. Uma had noticed her before, after catching glimpses of her at the coffee shop and around campus, because someone like Mal was impossible not to notice. With her vibrant purple hair, sharp laugh, and bold confidence, Mal was someone with a presence that commanded your attention, whether you wanted to give it to her or not.

Still, it wasn’t until Evie had introduced the two of them at that Halloween party that Uma realized Mal was also beautiful.

The three of them talked for a bit until Evie left to find Doug, and then after a few drinks, one thing led to another and Mal was pressing her up against the door of one of the many empty bedrooms in Ben’s parents’ house.

They’d never talked about it afterwards, and that was fine. It was just a hookup, and even if it was admittedly one of the better hook-ups she’d had, it didn’t have to mean anything. It’d probably been for the best that they never brought it up again anyway, because Mal was passionate and full of fire, and Uma had too much fire of her own. They’d only end up burning each other.

Still, Uma would be lying if she said she hadn’t been just a little bitter when she found out Mal was dating Ben only a few months later.

But there were other fish in the sea, and life moved on, and so did Uma. She was practically over it by the time she moved in with Mal, had nearly pushed the entire thing from her mind months later. She might’ve completely moved on by now, if it hadn’t been for The Incident.

So as nice as it is, eating takeout together and making fun of the stupid shit Carlos and Jay send in Mal’s rotten core four group chat, sometimes it’s hard, because Mal is so _much._ She’s loud, and confident, and despite her tough exterior and her terrible attitude she cares so much about her friends and trying to do the right thing, even if she’s still figuring out what that is. And what is Uma supposed to do, when Mal is all those things and also makes Uma laugh harder than anyone she’s ever known without even trying, and smiles at her sometimes in a way that makes her breathless?

Sometimes Uma thinks it was easier when they hated each other. Things were certainly less confusing. Because just because Uma’s suddenly realizing she has some very inconvenient feelings, it doesn’t mean things between them can just change. They’re roommates, and they’ve only just become friends. They’ve spent the past year either arguing or barely speaking to each other, and still now, they haven’t learned how to talk about things instead of sweeping them under the rug and pretending they never happened.

And that’s exactly why Uma needs to nip all this in the bud _now,_ because sleeping on each other’s shoulders isn’t something friends do. At least, not friends like them.

The problem is that while she’s asleep, Mal doesn’t look angry or bitter or snarky or anything other than just...peaceful. And it’s weird, and definitely embarrassing, but Uma almost feels comfortable sitting like this with Mal.

Plus, this movie _is_ actually really good.

Ultimately, Uma decides there’s no harm in just waiting until the movie’s over to wake Mal up. Then they can just go to their respective rooms and pretend the whole thing happened.

 _Same as everything else,_ Uma thinks to herself dryly, and that’s the last thing she remembers before drifting off herself.

The next thing she registers is her head lying on something soft and the dim light of the morning sun filtering through the blinds in the window. She lifts her head off of Mal’s just as Mal lifts her head from Uma’s shoulder, and Uma doesn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until Mal is shifting to the other end of the house and muttering, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Uma says automatically. Her neck is killing her, though. Next time, she doesn't care how good the movie is, she's definitely hitting pause and making Mal go to bed.

Not that there’s going to be a next time. Obviously.

Shoving her thoughts aside, Uma smirks. “You were out halfway through that movie, though. Tell me again about how it’s cinematic excellence?”

Mal narrows her eyes. “Shut up,” she says, tossing a throw pillow at Uma’s face, but before she turned away, Uma could’ve sworn she was blushing.

  
  
  
  


**DAY 44**

“You know what I miss?” Mal says, unprompted.

The two of them are sprawled across the couch, legs tangled together. Uma is trying to remind herself that this is not A Thing as she scans her paper for grammar mistakes. Mal, meanwhile, is fiddling with her Switch and keeps interrupting Uma’s concentration to show her all the fish she’s catching. It’s very distracting and annoying, and does not make Uma feel fond or any other feelings whatsoever.

“I don’t know,” Uma says, still scrolling through her paper. “I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

Mal sticks her tongue out, like the child she is, and Uma rolls her eyes. “ _Anyway._ I miss escape rooms.”

Uma lifts her eyebrows. “You miss being voluntarily locked in your room as opposed to being locked in our apartment due to mandatory reasons?” Mal narrows her eyes, and Uma laughs. “Okay, not gonna lie, I kind of miss them too. I kick _ass_ at escape rooms.”

“I bet I could kick your ass harder at an escape room.”

Uma lowers the screen of her laptop. “I don’t know if you know this, but the point of doing an escape room is to escape, not to out-do the other person, who is also trying to escape.”

“If you’re lame, sure.”

Uma rolls her eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

Uma freezes the second after Mal does.

“I didn’t mean — ” Mal starts.

“I know,” Uma says. Her face feels hot.

Neither of them say anything after that. The moment feels fragile and breakable, but also like it could be _something._ It’s almost the closest they’ve come to discussing it out loud, and maybe Uma should press harder, should insist that Mal finally address this _thing_ lurking between them instead of sweeping it under the rug again.

But before Uma can say anything else, Mal is turning back to her Switch. So Uma opens her laptop back up and lets the subject drop.

  
  
  


**DAY 58**

Despite the status of the world, and the feelings Uma’s been trying to ignore, things between her and Mal are surprisingly great. It’s almost difficult to remember a time when they were at each other’s throats.

Evie, of course, is thrilled with this new development.

“I knew you two would hit it off eventually,” Evie had said one night, during her and Mal’s weekly FaceTime dinners that they graciously allowed Uma to crash every now and then. Her smile was bright, even through Mal’s phone screen. “This is what I’ve been talking about the whole time! If you just put aside your differences and had some good alone time to bond, I knew you could be friends.”

She and Mal have probably had more than their fair share of “alone time,” but Uma decides not to bring that up.

“Yes, Evie, I get it. There's nothing more important than the all-powerful magic of friendship,” Mal dead-panned.

“Oh, I'm _so_ sorry for being _elated_ that my two best friends have finally pulled their heads out of their asses and followed my advice,” Evie said sarcastically.

Uma raised her eyebrows. “I thought Jay and Carlos were your best friends.”

Evie blanched. “They are!” She said quickly, and then, “Please don't tell them I said that.”

Uma had laughed, but secretly she felt pleased.

Evie’s right, though. The two of them are actually getting along really well, and with everything going on, it’s nice to have something actually going good for once.

Of course, she had to go and screw it up.

“What is this?” Mal demands, throwing down a notebook onto the coffee table in front of Uma.

Uma sits up on the couch and blinks in surprise at Mal’s tone, but obediently closes her laptop to look down at the notebook thrown on the table. For a moment she can’t think of anything to say. What she finally settles on is, “Oh shit.”

Because sitting on the table is Uma’s notebook, filled with apartment complex flyers and rental listings circled in red.

Mal huffs out a laugh, but it’s a mean sound, and she looks angrier than Uma’s seen her in a while. “Seriously? When did you write this list?”

And maybe Uma should try to reassure her that the notebook is nothing, but suddenly she’s angry too, because what right does Mal have to snoop through her stuff and get angry about things she was never even supposed to find?

“It was from months ago, relax,” Uma mutters, defensive, snatching the notebook off the table.

“And you never told me about it?”

“I was going to!” Uma insists. “But then the quarantine happened and I couldn’t go _anywhere,_ so I didn’t need to!”

Mal crosses her arms across her chest. “So what you’re saying is that if the quarantine hadn’t happened, you’d be moved out by now?”

“I never said that,” Uma says, even though it’s, admittedly, the truth.

Mal throws up her hands, laughing incredulously. “Oh my God, I can’t _believe_ you. How do you sleep at night, acting all chummy with me when you were planning to move out just a couple months ago?”

Uma can practically feel her blood boiling at all the accusations Mal’s making, but forces herself to take a deep breath. She refuses to lower herself to Mal’s level. 

“I sleep at night just fine,” she says, voice clipped. “Thanks for asking.”

“Nice,” Mal says, making a face. “So, this whole time, were you just waiting until all this is over so you can move out like you planned?”

It’s a question Uma’s asked herself more than once, but the truth is, things are much different now than they were then. For one thing, she can barely afford her half of the rent _now,_ much less could she afford a new lease. But for another, her circumstances have changed. Before, she wanted to move because she wanted to get away from Mal. Now, when things between her and Mal still feel new and fragile but undeniably _good_ in a way she never thought they’d be, she...well. She doesn’t feel like she has anything she needs to get away from anymore.

“Probably not,” she finally admits.

Apparently, the answer isn’t good enough, because Mal scoffs. “I just can’t believe you didn’t think to say anything to me,” and she still sounds angry, but her voice suddenly sounds small. “I thought we...I thought we were good. I thought we were friends.”

“We were,” Uma insists. “We _are._ ”

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I didn’t think it mattered anymore! I didn’t think I was going to go through with it!”

“Okay, and what’s your excuse for before?” Mal demands. “Before you’d changed your mind, back when you thought you were still going to move out?” Uma looks away, and Mal makes a noise of disbelief. “What, you were too much of a coward to actually talk to me about it?”

And, okay, that does it. “Oh, that is _rich_ coming from you.”

Mal narrows her eyes. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Well, last I checked,” Uma practically spits out, “ _You’re_ the one who kissed me and avoided me immediately afterwards.”

For the first time, Mal falters. Her shoulders drop, and her fists unclench.

“That was years ago,” she finally manages to say.

It takes everything in Uma to meet Mal’s gaze when she says, “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

Mal’s the one who looks away this time.

The Incident had happened about a month before quarantine, and about a week or two before Uma realized she had to move out. The Incident was what felt like the turning point in her life, like every event she’d lived through was divided into Before Mal Kissed Her for the Second Time and After Mal Kissed Her for the Second Time. 

It was a Wednesday night. Mal had just gotten off a shift from the coffee shop, and burst into Uma’s room, demanding to know why the stack of dishes in the sink hadn’t been washed yet. And, granted, it _had_ been Uma’s turn to wash the dishes, but Mal forgot to do the dishes nearly every week, so where did she get off? 

So they fought about the dishes, and that escalated into a fight about what a terrible roommate Uma evidently was, which led to Uma accusing Mal of being the awful roommate, not her, and then Mal had just lost it.

“God, Uma, do you ever just _shut up?_ ” Mal cried.

“You want me to shut up?” Uma demanded with a laugh, stepping forward so that Mal was cornered against her bedroom door. “Then make me.”

And Mal had kissed her.

It was brief, because she’d been too surprised to respond, so Mal had almost immediately backed away, muttering, “Shit, sorry — ” but the next thing Uma knew, she was surging forward and kissing Mal back.

The rest of night was a blur of Mal wrapping her arms around Uma's waist, of tangling her hands in Uma's turquoise hair, of muttering, “I’ve wanted to do this again ever since…”

In the morning, Mal was gone. She’d avoided Uma for weeks after that.

Now, Mal stands in front of her, unable to meet her gaze. “I thought if we just pretended it never happened, we could just forget about it.”

Uma scoffs. “Clearly that didn’t work.”

Mal huffs out a sigh, blowing the bangs out of her face. “Clearly.”

The silence that falls between them after that is both awkward and tense and it isn’t broken until Mal sighs again and says, “Look, I’m sorry I never said anything, alright? But I thought it didn’t need saying.” Uma blinks at her expectantly. “Like, I thought we both realized that there was no point, and that nothing was ever going to work between us.”

“Then why did you kiss me at all?” Uma demands. “What, was I just an itch you needed to scratch?”

Mal winces. “Not exactly.” Uma crosses her arms, and Mal stares. “Seriously? You’re going to make me say it?”

Uma raises her eyebrows and waits.

“Fine. I did it because — because you’re — just, I couldn’t get you out of my head, alright?”

Well, whatever Uma had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “What?”

Mal tilts her head back and groans. “Ugh, ever since that Halloween party I’ve tried _everything_ to get over you. I avoided you, I ignored you, I was purposefully extra bitchy to you so you’d leave me alone. I even dated _Ben Florian,_ for God’s sake.”

Despite her shock, Uma lets out a short laugh, although it’s mostly out of belief. Mal smiles, too, although it looks a little self-pitying.

“But you were always there,” Mal continues. “All the time, you were at the coffee shop or around campus or at my apartment studying with Evie and it was so...annoying.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was! All I was trying to do was forget you existed, and there you were, at every turn. And then when I finally thought I was moving on and getting over it Evie asked if I’d agree to let you move in and I wanted to say no but she looked so hopeful and I needed the rent money and I thought it’d maybe be fine. But everything just got so much _worse,_ and — ”

Uma cuts Mal mid-sentence to scoff. “Are you serious right now?” She demands. “You expect me to believe you’ve had feelings for me this whole time when you’ve been nothing but a jerk ever since I moved in?”

Mal shrugs with a wry smile. “Yeah, well, you know. Sexual tension and all that.”

Uma shakes her head. “Oh my God.”

“And anyway,” Mal says, looking down to pull at a loose thread at the end of her sweater. “It felt like you yelling at me was better than you not talking to me at all.”

“Wow,” Uma laughs in disbelief. “You’re an asshole.”

Mal looks up with a smirk that doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “So I’ve been told.”

Uma lets out a tired sigh. “Mal, why didn’t you just...say something?”

“Because we never would’ve worked!” Mal bursts out. “You and I...we’re too alike. We’re too loud, too angry, too passionate...we’re too _much,_ Uma, both of us. We’d fight each other at every turn.”

“But we don’t,” Uma counters. “We haven’t fought in a while.”

Mal shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. I still...I can’t, alright? I’m not Evie, or Jay, or Carlos. I’m a mess! And you — you’re so smart, and independent, and so unafraid to be yourself, and you look after Gil and Harry and even Evie and you _care_ about _everyone_ even though you act like you don’t, and I don’t...I don’t deserve that! I don’t know how to love someone or accept love from someone else. I don’t know how to...to freely give parts of myself away and hope that the other person keeps them safe, and I can’t care about someone else without hurting them.”

“Mal…”

“Just...stop, Uma. You know I’m right,” Mal says, and she won’t quite meet Uma’s gaze, but she looks more defeated than she’s ever seen her.

And that’s not right, because this is Mal, who is the strongest, toughest, and most stubborn person Uma’s ever known, and she’ll be damned if Mal gives up on this just when Uma has realized that they were a “this” to begin with.

So Uma leans back and crosses her arms across her chest. “You know, Mal, contrary to popular belief, you’re not always right.”

Mal looks up sharply. “Hey — ”

“Mal,” Uma interrupts. “ _You’re_ the one who cares about everyone. I know you text Evie goodnight every night, and I know you check in with Carlos and Jay every morning just to make sure they’re doing alright. And I know you leave Advil next to my bed when I get home late and stock the fridge with energy drinks when I have an assignment due and you let me pick the movie even if it’s your night to pick.”

Mal stares at her, unmoving, and so Uma keeps going before she loses her nerve. “And you give pieces of yourself away all the time, every day. You let me listen to your music, and you show me the movies you like, and you show me bits of yourself more and more, every day.” 

The expression on Mal’s face, honest and broken open, is one Uma’s never seen before. “Uma, I…”

“And,” Uma cuts her off, because she’s on a roll now, and she’s not letting Mal’s big mouth get in the way. “I don’t think we’re too alike. Or if we are, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve never met someone as passionate or crazy as I am.”

Mal snorts out a surprised laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Uma nods. “You...you’re always challenging me, and making me better, and making me stronger.”

Mal swallows visibly. “You make me that, too,” she tells her seriously, and then smiles wryly again. “Stronger together, huh?”

Uma wrinkles her nose. “That’s getting a little cheesy.”

Mal laughs brightly. “You like it,” she accuses, and Uma can hear the teasing lilt to her voice. Then she sing-songs, “Because you _like_ me _._ ”

Uma grins. “Yeah. Unfortunately, I do.”

And for the first time, she kisses Mal first.

It’s nothing like the first two times, which had been rushed and frantic. Now, Uma kisses Mal soft and slow, and without any hesitation, Mal kisses her right back just as slow, like she’s savoring the kiss just as much as Uma is.

And if they stand there together in the middle of their living room longer than they intended, then that’s alright. After all, it’s not like they have anywhere to go. They have all the time in the world.


End file.
